When the Revolution Comes

The Last Poets of the 70’s
Chiding those
Seated at Sylvia’s
With chicken “hanging
Out of their mouths”
Too well-fed
Clothed and
Loved
To care about
Revolution

Not so
In Cairo
Where earth’s wretched
Scramble and claw
The line that
Defines their pain
In relief
Rising out of
Greed
Cloaked in
A Misshapen
Democracy